William Mark's Books

Saturday, June 14, 2014

The same park bench was empty as I had found it after
Caitlin’s funeral.I had slipped out of
our church strolling around Lake Ella taking time for myself.Here, I planned out how to kill Earnest
McFadden and George Shelley before inviting Beau over to the house.Now, I come here on my lunch break to think
about her.

It was
the Friday before Father’s Day and the first one since I lost Caitlin.I had to be alone, I wanted to be alone.Hell, I needed to be alone.The beautiful summer day was in contrast of
my melancholy feelings.The sky was a
brilliant bright blue with a parade of fluffy white clouds moving to the east
providing a comfortable breeze in the humid air.The bench faced the lake and a massive sixty
foot fountain that sprayed water high into the air.It was calming and one of the reason’s I
find solace in this place.

I navigated
through thoughts of the past seven months that were anything short of
chaotic.Everyone knew, without valid
proof, that with the help of Beau Rivers I had executed George Shelley in his jail cell
underneath the courthouse.The
detectives did their job working the case, but as before, Beau and I managed to
avoid arrest.They came close and I
knew it was probably a matter of time before it actually happened.

In the
wake of the investigation and subsequent media circus, they tucked me away in
the property and evidence section.Housed
in the basement of the department, I stay hidden from the public eye with no valid
reason to go into the field.They more
or less created a spot just for me and gave me civilians to supervise, not
cops.I knew they couldn’t get rid of me
without probable cause, so it didn’t matter what hole they stuck me in just so
long those bastards remained dead.

Beau
was shipped off to the airport and given the late shift.Having been the target of the department’s
wrath before, it was nothing he couldn’t handle, but the boredom of the Tallahassee
Regional Airport was on a different level.It was mind numbingly boring.Pritchard
made that happen hoping Beau would quit, off himself or submit out of boredom
and confess.

I hadn’t
seen Beau since that day at the cemetery.I missed him, but knew it was best we kept away from each other.I’d seen Beau’s car sitting at the end of our
street watching, but never coming any closer.On occasion I’d see Wendy staring out of the window in that direction; I
knew she missed him too.

Reginald
Pritchard was no longer the Captain of Internal Affairs.Even though he was unable to pin the murders
of McFadden and Shelly on Beau and I, he was now known as “Major Prick”.He was promoted soon after Christmas and followed Chief
Harrison step down in light of the public scrutiny.He cursed the day he promoted me and rued the
day he let Beau keep his job.

The new
guy, Chief Robert Shaw, had been promoted from within and was tasked with the
job of weathering the storm Beau and I created.His first move was to move me to P&E and Beau to the airport.I knew Bobby since I started and he was a
good-hearted family man, tactful, smart and a true leader.I couldn’t blame him for putting us in exile,
it was a smart move.It’s what I would
have done.

On top
of the shit-storm we created, this town started to implode.The murder rate was rising and the drug trade
was getting out of control and spilling out of the hood.Hell, there have been more police shootings
in the last seven months than we had in the last seven years.The latest drama, still hot in the news, was a
huge conspiracy that was uncovered.It surrounded
a cop’s murder over a decade ago.It was
par for the course as the world was clearly going to hell.Either something needs to be done, or cops
are going to wind up dead.

My desperation
that led to such a destructive path led me to think about taking the easy exit
of suicide.I thought about it long and
hard after the drama unfolded at the courthouse.If I followed through with it, I would get to
see Caitlin again, but leave Wendy alone with no one.But I was given another reason to stick
around.A baby boy grew in Wendy's belly, a little boy that I would soon call son.It was ironic that his life was conceived out of the ashes of another.That’s why I settled on the strong and
meaningful name of Phoenix.

However, my thoughts always came
back to Caitlin and the chaos that ensued after her untimely murder.I hated myself for crossing the line, but I
reminded myself of how she was taken.I
think about who she was and who she was going to be.She had such potential to make a difference
in this world.Thinking about how she
was taken from me always caused my blood to boil as strong as it did the day I
decided to get revenge.Images of
beating the defenseless body of Earnest McFadden brought me only temporary
satisfaction, but it felt right at the time.

Caitlin
was beautiful.She was smart, caring and
thoughtful.She was taken too early and
that always brought the helpless feeling back.When I think about how she was going to be somebody special in this
world of shit, tears roll down my face.I brought my favorite picture of Caitlin.Her mother had taken it.I had surprised her at school and her beaming
smile reflected the excitement of my surprise.I could hear her say in her sweet little voice, “I love you daddy!”I was holding her in my arms as she squeezed
tightly around my neck.It was the
definition of love and I needed to be reminded of that before Father’s Day.

I
looked up as I wiped away the tears.The
birds chirped, the breeze rolled by, and walkers around the lake passed by
unconcerned for the murderer who sat on the bench.

“I love
you too, baby.”It’s not the same, but
kissing the picture gives me peace.

I took
a deep breath bringing in the warm summer air trying to compose myself as lunch
was nearly over.My cell phone buzzed in
my pocket.I hoped for a second it was
Beau, but the number on the caller ID was from the department.

“Hello?”

“Lt.
Akers?”

“Yes.”

“Hey,
this is Candace from the Chief’s office.”

“Hi,
Candace.”I’ve known Candace since she
was the patrol secretary walking subpoenas up to me as an investigator in
Homicide.The need for formalities was
evident she was intimidated by me.I was
no threat, but I also understood why.

Monday, June 2, 2014

Gabriel Farmer sat quietly outside of
the hospital trauma bay completely lost in thought.The doctors worked furiously on the squadmate
but the damage was irreparable and they were unable to save him.Gabe looked down at his blood soaked hands
and wondered why him?Why was death
haunting him?It seemed that everywhere
he went, death followed like an unshakeable shadow.He was the reaper of souls dressed in a blue
uniform taking from people he came in contact with and wanted no part of that
responsibility.

It
was senseless, this death of a good cop.The suspect managed to live through surgery and would later stand trial
for his misdeeds but he would be alive to face judgment.Gabe’s squadmate was robbed of that option
and he knew it was somehow his fault.He
was cursed.What started out that day as
a joke was becoming true, he was the “Angel of Death”.It was senseless for the tormented man to die
an agonizing death and the mourning widower to cut his own life short.Now his partner was taken.It was too much to burden and Gabe felt
crushed by the weight of it all.

Other
cops came to the hospital in the tragic hour of need but for some reason steered
clear of Gabe as he sat contemplating his reasoning for being.It was like they too believed he was a cursed
man.

Maybe
it was true, he thought.

Gabe felt the
tension from the other cops and decided to walk away for he did not want to
spread this curse on anyone else.He
found a water fountain down the hallway and took in the refreshing water as his
body begged for it.He found a small
side room and ducked in for an escape.The
cacophony of chaotic sounds, beeps and voices instantly fell silent in the
small room.It would be his sanctuary
from the madness.The room was empty and
he took a seat continuing his own thoughts of torment.

He
stared at the small rubberized wrist band on his hand.It was black with a blue stripe in the
middle, a simple homage to the brotherhood of police officers and how they
stick together.He tugged at it and
threw it across the small room knowing he failed at having his partner’s back
and letting him die.Tears flooded his
eyes and began to roll down his cheeks.

He
cried silently for a moment until he heard the door open.He wiped away the tears and glanced a look
back.An older man, dressed in a
hospital gown looked back at Gabe as he took a seat behind him in the small room.Gabe turned back and dove back into his
thoughts.

After
a minute of shared silence, the man said “You’re looking at it all wrong.”

Gabe
looked up and back around thinking he was talking to someone else, but it was
just them in the room.

“Yes,
I’m talking to you.You are looking at
it all wrong.”

“I’m
sorry, do I know you?What are you
talking about?”

“You’re
thinking you are somehow cursed, right?”

“Yeah,
but how do you know that?Listen, I’m
not really the mood to be messed with.”

Gabe
spun around in his seat and looked straight at the man.He had a long white beard and held a look of aged
wisdom.He maintained a genuine and
serious look.Gabe was at a crossroads
and was willing to accept anything to help him understand this curse.

“Okay,
how should I be looking at it?”

“You
are not cursed for starters.You’re a
messenger, from God.”

“What?Okay, you must have walked over here from the
psych ward, time to go back buddy.”

With
calm clarity that is absent among the sick-minded, the man said, “No, I’m
serious.You are a messenger.The tormented man was that, tormented and you
were able to see that.He had killed his
entire family in a drunk-driving accident years prior and the guilt consumed
him to the point of mental collapse.He
was called home so he could not hurt anyone else and finally be with his
family.”

Gabe
looked at the man shocked but hung on every word wanting to believe what he
said.

“How
did you know about that?”

“I
just do.And the elderly man yesterday,
he failed to mention the pact he made with his wife didn’t he?”

Gabe
shook his head in astonishment.

“After
she died, he had nothing in that life to prove.He wanted to be with her in eternity as he had in life, so it was
granted and that was unfortunately the quickest way.”

“But
he had life yet to live, it was senseless.”

“You’ll
understand the power of love one day soon.”

“Okay
but today.There is nothing good about
today, nothing!”

“That’s
not true.There is a need for heroes,
even in the afterlife and however untimely it seems, he was called.”

“But,
why not leave him and take the suspect instead, why not take him? Condemn him?”

“He
is wicked, no doubt but he will pay the price for his sins on earth before
coming home, you made sure of that.”

“Me?”

“Yes,
the simple life saving measure you took on scene for him, albeit small and
simple, made the difference in him living or dying.”

“Why
does it have to be death, I don’t think I can’t take any more.I won’t be able to get close to anyone
knowing that death is waiting.”

“Death
waits for us all.But it’s not all about
life and death.”

“Okay?”

“Do
you remember the drug addicted fool you chased the other day?”

“Yes, what about
him?Did he die in jail of an overdose
or something?”

“What if I told
you he finally reached the bottom and your arrest has motivated him to clean
himself up?”

“I
suppose anything’s possible.But, I
don’t understand, so how am I supposed to look at this, I’m not following.”

“Gabriel,
you are not the reaper of souls, you are a guardian angel and a messenger
placed on earth.What better place to
fight the war against good and evil than in the front lines you deal with on a
daily basis?And what better role could
you be in to fight than working in the noblest of all professions, that of a
peacekeeper?”

Gabriel
felt relief as he listened to the man speak and bowed his head in recognition
that his words made sense.Death is a
necessity in life and divine grace can appear even in the worst of
circumstances.Perhaps the old man is
right, he thought.As the words soaked
in, he realized the man spoke his name, without him introducing himself and his
nameplate on his uniform only says his last name.His head shot up to inquire how he knew that
but the man was gone.He whipped his
head around the small room and it was empty.He was alone, but the words registered and oddly enough Gabriel Farmer
felt better.He felt connected and with
purpose, not lost and burdened.

Monday, May 26, 2014

The next day was the last of the week
and Gabe thought the weekend could not arrive faster.He was teased and labeled the “Angel of
Death” among his squadmates.Although it
was harmless jocularity aimed at his recent encounters, Gabe felt there may
have been some semblance of truth in the unwanted moniker.He tried to shake it off but death did seem
to follow.

Gabe
took advantage of the quiet evening and sat talking with his squadmate about
anything outside of death, dying or anything of a depressing nature.They had found their favorite hiding place
within their shared beat, underneath a giant mossy oak tree in a vacant
lot.The lot was behind a commercial
zone off the main thoroughfare, so they could easily respond to calls for
service when needed.

As
the squadmate spoke happily of his girlfriend and their plans to marry soon,
the alert tone brought them back to the reality of police work.An armed robbery had been reported on the
other side of the district.A desperate
man in a ski mask had held up a clerk at a convenient store and made off with
the contents of the cash register.Other
members of the squad responded to the scene to work the call but Gabe and the
squadmate felt compelled to at least help out.The responding officers got on scene and quickly relayed the suspect’s
description and added that he fled in a vehicle parked down the street.Gabe kept his eyes open for the vehicle as he
responded knowing the excitement of a car chase would replace the lingering
haunt of death.

As
the call was worked, Gabe looked around the outlying areas for the suspect and
his vehicle.He was about to give up the
futile attempt at finding a needle in a haystack when somebody keyed up on the
radio after spotting the fleeing vehicle.Gabe was close by and turned to cut off the suspect.Before he could get there, the suspect
crashed and was seen fleeing on foot into a neighborhood.K-9 units and a helicopter were dispatched to
the area to help search for the armed robber.Gabe and his squadmate took up perimeter posts on the south boundary of
the perimeter.He listened intently as
the dog tracked the suspect through backyards and over fences.Given the path the dog was following, the
suspect was heading in the opposite way of where Gabe and the squadmate were
set up.

Tempted
to leave his post and adjust to where the track was heading, Gabe sat tight
knowing the glory would not be his on this night.He yelled down the fifty yards to the
squadmate’s post inquiring where he wanted to eat dinner after the call was
finished.Before the squadmate answered,
the sound of a fence clinking and the crash of a falling person was heard
somewhere off in the darkness.It came
from behind the houses between Gabe’s and the squadmate’s perimeter position.Gabe and the squadmate took cover behind
their respective patrol cars and instantly withdrew their weapons.

They
waited for the suspect immergence, but nothing happened.In an attempt to remain silent so as to not
make the suspect aware of their presence, they nodded and threw hand signs back
at each other as they formulated a plan to approach the area where the sound
originated.After a few moments, they
crept out from behind cover with their guns drawn and held up at the ready.They bravely walked toward danger in search
of an armed suspect.

They
stealthily approached the back yard of a house where all the lights were off,
an ideal hiding spot for a criminal.The
cops inched their way slowly so as to sneak up on the unsuspecting felon and
surprise him into submission to avoid a violent confrontation.As they neared the corner, they checked each
other with a knowing look and in unison broke the corner of the house with guns
up and their flashlights coming to life illuminating the back yard.

To
their dismay, the noisy culprit was a scavenging raccoon digging for its
evening meal in the homeowners garbage can and not the armed robber.They shooed the animal away and relaxed finding
the humor in the situation.They scanned
the back yard for any signs of the real perpetrator but did not find any.As they walked back to the front of the house,
they continued the debate on where dinner was going to be.

As
they walked into the front yard, the orange glow of the street light shone
bright in their eyes and cast shadows behind them.Gabe looked down to maintain his “night eyes”
as he continued back to the perimeter post.As he looked up, a shadowy figure moved within several feet to his right
catching him off guard.The glint of
metal reflected from the street light flashed across Gabe’s face as he realized
he was in a standoff with the armed suspect.His gun was still out and he had the suspect dead to right, but he saw him
raise up the gun in slow motion and felt there was nothing he could do to stop
it.

“No,
no, no…” he begged the suspect.Not
because he didn’t want to get shot, but because he was being forced to shoot
the suspect.He’d seen enough death and
didn’t want to be the cause.

Flashes
of fire and bright lights bounced back and forth by the yard’s edge.After the brief fire fight, Gabe felt distant
and withdrawn from the scene but reality came crashing down as his ears were
ringing and his nostrils stung of warm gun powder.He was still standing but the suspect
fell.He watched in awesome terror as
the suspect writhed in pain from the searing hot lead that pierced his
body.He checked himself, finding
everything intact and knew he was the victor and had survived.But, another life was taken.

He
rushed to the suspect’s side to assess the lethality of his rounds.He cursed the man for making him shoot and
berated him for the selfish actions.He
noticed the rounds were low and the man was gut shot and took one in the
shoulder.It hurt like hell, he was sure,
but this was survivable and only if he acted quickly.

Gabe
yelled back for help from his squadmate as he frantically secured the suspect
and started to treat his wounds.He
focused on applying pressure to the man’s stomach as he howled in pain and hadn’t
notice his cries for help went unanswered.Gabe looked up and yelled over at the squadmate for his help again but
stopped in horror.

The
squadmate was lying on the cold wet ground of the front yard holding his neck
that was bleeding profusely.Gabe
instantly left the suspect and ran to his partner’s side.He looked down in pure helplessness as his
friend was fighting for his life.A
round fired from the suspect, intended for Gabe, struck the squadmate who had
been standing behind and hit him in the neck.He tried to talk but only strained gurgles of blood and saliva came
out.Gabe hysterically screamed on the
radio for help and held his hands against the gushing tidal wave of blood
pouring from his friend’s neck.He was
powerless as he watched the light fade.

Monday, May 19, 2014

A few days passed, but the image of the
tormented man seemed to be stuck in Gabe’s mind.It was part of the job he told himself and
kept the odd feeling at bay by pressing on with protecting his corner of the
city.

He
was trolling through the drug riddled parts of his beat looking for the next
dealer to chase when the call of a death investigation took him to a middle
income neighborhood that was spared from the drug war.A husband had come home from an errand to
find his elderly wife not breathing and cold to the touch.

As
he pulled up, he noticed the house was simple and neat.It was a one story mason brick home pale
green with green shutters and white trim.A holdover look from the late sixties when the neighborhood was
established and undoubtedly the elderly couple were the original owners who
chose to stay in the home over the years. It was where they raised their three children and hosted
myriad of visits by grandchildren and even great grandchildren.Gabe parked in the driveway and walked up to
the front door.He was met with a warm
looking man dressed in a brown sweater and slacks, his hair was grayed and
thin, skin wrinkled from a lifetime of wear and his eyes were red from tears.

The
husband invited the young officer in as any other welcomed guest and showed him
the way to his bride of sixty three years lying peacefully in their bed.Gabe instantly felt intrusive and wanted to
leave but the man called the police for help and that’s what he was going to
do.She would not be brought back to
life but in death she would be treated with dignity and respect.

Gabe
listened to the man speak about his wife with beaming pride and it was clear
she was the only thing in his life that mattered. Recently, she had been having
shortness of breath and was seeing a doctor on a regular basis.The doctor’s prognosis had been heartbreaking
as he explained her time was nearing the end and no amount of medicine would
change that.They had accepted the fact
that her time on the earth was dwindling and this was her final sunset.But that didn’t make it any easier for the
husband to bear.

After
Gabe finished examining the body for signs of trauma or foul play and looking
around the home for any suspiciousness, he found himself studying the wall of
pictures that the elderly couple had collected and proudly displayed over the
years.The frames were an indication of
the years past as the older styles molded into the newer ones and the clarity
and quality of the pictures improved as the years went on.A lifetime of memories stared back at Gabe as
the husband sat patiently awaiting for the young cop to finish his
investigation.

“Cherish
the memories officer; they will pass by in a flash.”

Gabe
turned and looked at the old man and smiled.He felt sorry for the man as he would have to see his wife buried and
placed in the ground before him.

“I’ll
try sir.”

Gabe
explained that they were waiting on the funeral home to come take his wife’s
body to the morgue.Once that was
completed, they would be finished.

“Can
I call anyone for you sir?”Gabe figured
that with all of the family he proudly displayed on the wall, surely he would
want someone to comfort him in this difficult time.

“I’ll
be fine officer.I’ll let them know soon
enough.”

“As
you wish sir.”

The
funeral home arrived and with the solemn protocol rolled a gurney with a felt blanket
draped over it inside the modest home and removed the deceased wife with gentle
care.Gabe felt compelled to stay with
the man but he knew duty would soon come calling and he would have to
leave.Gabe followed the funeral home
workers outside with the wife to ensure she was placed into the hearse with the
dignity and respect she deserved.

The
sun had not only set for the wife but for the rest of the city as night
shrouded the sky.As he watched the
hearse pull away a cool breeze rolled in from the east gently kissing the cheek
of Gabriel Farmer.He decided the drug
peddlers down in the ghetto would have to wait and he would remain with the old
man until dispatch called him away.

As
he turned to go back in the house, the sharp crack of a gunshot echoed from
inside the house.Gabe’s heart stopped
and he instantly froze into place.He
didn’t go for his weapon or try to find cover, for he realized he was not the
intended target of the gunfire.His
brain kick started his body and he broke into a full sprint inside the house in
search of the old man.He desperately
looked in the living room where he was sitting during the investigation but the
chair was empty.He moved around to the
kitchen calling out his name, but there was only silence.

He
ran down the hallway toward the elderly couple’s bedroom and the distinct smell
of gun powder hung in the air.He slowed
his pace and stopped in the doorway before entering the bedroom.At what he saw inside his shoulders sunk and
he bowed his head in helpless defeat.

The
man was sitting in the bed he shared with his wife for half a century.He held a picture taken on their wedding day
in one hand and a .38 revolver laid loosely in the other.The blood was still streaming from his temple,
but the light inside was gone.

Saturday, May 17, 2014

Death is everywhere.The inevitable ending will undoubtedly come,
sometimes unannounced and sometimes expected, sometimes tragic and sometimes
just.But as life begins, it will one
day end.

Officer
Gabriel Farmer worked his beat like any other day.He worked the afternoon shift which was busy
in the northwest section of town.He
worked the gambit, from domestic disturbances, drunk and disorderly subjects,
drug complaints, burglaries and the occasional street violence that seemed to plague
the city.

He had just left
the jail after catching a wanted person right out of the gate.The forgetful drug addict had failed to
recognize Farmer from his arrest the week prior and tried to lie about his name
again.He realized the cop wasn’t buying
the alias and upon finally seeing through the foggy haze of the narcotic high, the
foolish man remembered the young cop’s face and tried to run.Farmer was ready and pounced on the pathetic
criminal before taking him to jail.He
never understood the stronghold that drugs had on people and to what lengths
they would go to just to chase the next high.

After leaving
the jail, he drove back inside the boundaries of his beat and passed by a city bus
stop where a man sat alone.The man
perked up as the marked patrol car passed by and watched Gabe intently.He was disheveled in appearance and Farmer
guessed the man was homeless.His
tousled hair and odd mannerisms, as he observed during that short window, led
to the assumption he had the additional burden of a mental illness.Gabe peered out of the windshield and locked
eyes with the man.He saw a darkness
surrounding the man that engulfed his being.His soul was tormented by some unknown evil lurking like a leviathan
waiting in the depths of hell.It was
distracting to the point Gabe veered slightly off the road as he passed the bus
stop.He snapped out of the mini trance and
headed to the next call.

He wondered
about the demons that men possess inside and tried to shake the eerie
connection he felt with the man at the bus stop.

As dinner time
neared, Gabe checked in with a squadmate to swap stories collected from earlier
in the shift.Suddenly, an alert tone beeped
over the radio calling for the nearest units to respond to a car crash with
serious injuries just down the street.Gabe answered the call and sped down the road with his lights flashing
and sirens blaring.As he prepped
mentally for the call ahead, a cold chill shuddered down his spine as he
realized he was responding to the area of the bus stop where he saw the
tormented man.The dispatched updated
the notes of the call; it was a vehicle versus a pedestrian crash.An unsettling feeling began to grow in the
pit of his stomach.

As he broke the crest
of the hill, he saw a charter bus pulled off to the side of the road, its
hazard lights were flashing and a uniformed driver waved frantically at the
oncoming patrol car.A small white sedan
was stopped at an odd angle just a few yards past the bus still sitting in the
inside lane.It’s driver’s side door was
slightly cracked open.Gabe parked in
the middle of the road short of the scene and left his emergency lights on to
warn approaching traffic.He jumped out
of the patrol car and ran up to the scene.He ignored the bus and the small white sedan, for what he saw was a
bloody heap of human bones and skin painfully distorted to the realm of utmost
horror.He ran to the man’s side and
locked eyes with the tormented man he saw at the bus stop earlier that
day.He knelt down to his side.

He was still
alive, barely.His eyes were wide with
unanticipated fear and looking around for answers that would never come.His face was cut deep across his forehead and
both cheeks, gashed down to the bone and seeping blood.His body was inhumanly contorted as his left
leg and ankle somehow came to rest across his right shoulder and his foot was
twisted around pointing outward.His
insides were pulverized into pieces by the small white sedan that hit him at
forty miles an hour and rolled over his limp body sending him tumbling down the
asphalt in excruciating pain.The man
gasped for air and tried to grab for his leg and move it back to where God had
intended it be, but lacked the strength and ability to make that happen.As he desperately searched for answers with
his eyes, he finally looked over at the young cop who was knelt down by his
side.

An overwhelming
sense of helplessness washed over Gabriel Farmer as to what he could do for
this tormented man.He was trained as a
first responder but that would not be enough to help this man.A team of surgeons dressed and ready wouldn’t
make a difference.The man’s searching
eyes locked onto Gabe’s as if to say “help me”.He looked over the man’s body and felt there was only one way to truly
help.He grabbed his hand as it searched for the
misplaced leg and he held it tight in his own.The sound of sirens from additional units grew louder as they approached
the scene.He leaned over to the man,
who stopped his futile struggle to listen to Gabe.

“Let go,
brother. Just let go.”Gabe said in a soothing and comforting tone
unfitting for the middle of a highway amongst the chaos of a horrendous traffic
crash.Gabe repeated the soft command
and felt the grip of the tormented man loosen in his own.Taking the cops advice, he stopped fighting
and let the light fade from his eyes.

No matter how
small of a chance the man had for survival, he would never walk, never hold
anything in his hands, make love, hug a friend or even control his bodily
functions.The torment and anguish would
be over and he could rest in peace.

Tuesday, April 15, 2014

He stood across the street from the crime scene taking it
in.Studying the scene from afar gives
perspective into the killer’s insights and provides an overall picture of his
chosen prey.Looking over the scene, which
eerily stood still in the cool midnight air, he was getting a feel for what
story will be told by the crime scene.He
quietly watched.The crime scene will
tell a lot about the person who created it, were they careful or were they
sloppy?Did they take a trophy?Did they leave a telling clue behind?It would all be discovered by paying
attention to the minute details of the crime scene.

He
stood across the street watching patiently before the forensic investigators
snapped their pictures, collected their swabs, dusted for fingerprints, took
measurements and searched for evidence of the crime.It was before the reporters showed up
creating a three-ring media circus and before the brass showed up barking empty
orders to sound important and validate their presence.It was before the heart wrenching scene of when
the victim’s loved ones showed up with false hope and disbelief on their faces,
and then leaving with bitter acceptance and tragic loss gripping their souls.

The small residential house that sat
on the corner lot of a small intersection bestowed the honor of the macabre
scene.Its modesty was apparent with
well-trimmed hedges, a neat lawn and swept walkway.A giant oak tree loomed over the side of the
house casting a dark shadow over the yard and opposed the dull orange glow of
the street light by the road.The tree’s
graying beards of Spanish moss swayed gently in the night breeze.This would be the likely path of the killer
as it offered the ideal shroud of darkness to conceal a stealthy approach.

There was a blue light flickering
in the far window to the right, obviously the master bedroom.They were watching television, or had fallen
asleep without turning it off.No other lights
were on and no movement in the other two windows which undoubtedly held the children
sleeping quiet in their beds.The front
door was shut and the small covered porch was clear.A few decorative plants and flower pots
adorned the railing which bore no real purpose to the scene.

On the approach, the noticeable
odor of dog feces was emanating upward.They have a dog, or at the very least, the neighbor has a dog that likes
to leave foul smelling deposits in their yard.This would cause concern because an alert dog would give away the
approach, and all would be lost.

Beneath the giant mossy oak he watched
further.Another angle offers another
perspective into the eyes of a killer.The
shadowy crevice in the deep corner of the yard offered the perfect concealment
from any nosy neighbor or untimely passersby.From this spot, he could observe his prey, unnoticed until the perfect
moment to strike.It was mere feet from
the master bedroom window and looking in from the right angle offered a glimpse
into their lives.He could watch his
prey in living color before he introduced them to their untimely demise.This angle also allowed the killer to see the
foot of the bed and the sleeping legs and feet of his prey.This confirmed they had fallen asleep.

A simple scratch of the door or
slight scuffle on the porch would test the ears of the potential watchdog
inside.After no response, he would
proceed.

As the killer felt comfortable
enough, he would move stealthily toward the front door, as this was his choice
of entrance, and what a grand entrance it would be.The door was not as well kept as the rest of
the house.It was old and faded from
facing the setting sun.It was dried and
the locks tarnished from age.It would
not offer much resistance to the determined killer.

The door was violently kicked splintering
the door frame into shreds deeper into the living room granting him access to
his prey.A single dusty boot print left
on the exterior of the door would be evident.But now came the challenge, now is when the thrill of the hunt would
come into play and the experience of the killer revealed.The killer’s presence was announced and soon
the element of surprise would dissipate.

Waking in a dazed stupor, the man
and wife slowly withdrew out of their slumber to the confusion and utter chaos
that would soon follow.Was the loud
crash a part of their dream or was it real?Before realizing they were the hunted, the shadowy killer deftly advanced
into the master bedroom.He would be
backlit from the glow of the television screen and his silhouette would be cast
on the back wall giving the illusion of a hulking monster on the attack.

A shiny glint caught the man’s eyes
as his dark world slowly came into focus and reality came crashing down.As the shadowy killer pounced on the man, the
sharp sting of metal slicing through his abdomen was slow to develop but the
killer would soon overpower him with his deceptive strength.A quick withdrawal from the wound released
the initial gush of blood that was met with disbelief from the man.Surely, he was still dreaming.Before a scream could escape his mouth, there
was another piercing stab deep into his gut silencing the pain as it grew
exponentially and controlling.He looked
in disbelief over at his wife who had just joined his new reality but it was
too late for her as well.

The shadowy killer grabbed her
flailing arms and pulled her back onto the bed aside her dying husband.She tried to fight back but was met with hard
strikes to her head that sent her back to the realm of the confused.Her brain told her mouth to cry for help but
only a muted push of air made it out.She managed to struggle through the hazy fog but it was like fighting while
neck-deep in quicksand.A strategic
slice to her abdomen suppressed her futile attempt of escape.She gripped the killer tightly hoping for any
ounce of humanity on his part that would allow her to live and not perish in
this moment.But that was not to be, her
fate was already determined and death was the sentence.A series of follow up stabs, each more
violent than the last, would follow the first cut.Anger and rage had taken over the shadowy
killer who had exercised extreme control and patience up until this point.He edged the line of control and chaos.He grew aroused and the thrill of the stabs
somehow led him to gratification.

The bloody mess he left her lying
in paled in comparison to the husband.This would be a clear indication that the woman was the overall
target.Attacking the husband first
would remove any chance he would pose as a threat and allow him to concentrate
more on his ultimate prize, the woman.

Blood spatter stained the sheets,
drapes, walls, pillows and the ceiling above glistened a deep dark red.Crimson dots cast off from each rage filled
stab littered the walls and on the ceiling numbered the stars as the sky on a
clear night.Arterial spray dressed the
wall and sheets, and transfer smears and swipes were left by the killer as he
was finally pushing away from his victim.A void was left to her immediate sides as this showed where he straddled
his victim during the attack.It was a
mess.A violent bloody mess.She was probably unconscious within a minute
after the initial penetration of the blade due to the overwhelming blood loss,
so any resistance offered would have been in vain given the surprise attack.

Bloody footprints led away from the
foot of the bed and faded as they moved about the bedroom.Was there something in the room worth hanging
around for, a trophy perhaps?The
bedroom is a sanctuary and keeper of all things personal and secret.Doors are closed shut when guests arrive so
as not to subject them to the perverted secrets or shameful habits we hide so
ingenuously in the closet, the dresser drawers and the medicine cabinet.It would only take a short time to learn of
those secrets by taking a look in the obvious hiding spots.

She had long straight blond hair, a
toned body and a classical beauty about her that seemed to fit an obvious
profile, chosen of the killer’s own lust.The rage that was inflicted to her body was on the verge of overkill and
leaned toward a personal relationship with her attacker, but in the ever
evolving mind of a killer she could have been a well-planned target.She would have been watched for days or even
weeks prior.Was the killer careful
during his courtship or was he sloppy?

The husband was just a hurdle, a
task to complete before reaching his intentions and not worthy of the attention
she deserved.It didn’t matter what he
looked like, it didn’t matter who he was, it only mattered that he was moved
out of the way so he could focus on his courtship with her.

Silence followed the heinous
act.No sirens, no screams for help, no
chirps of the patrolman’s radio, just calm silence.The rest of house remained asleep as the
killer would embed himself into the lives of his prey, not ready to let go of
their connection.A stroll around the
sanctuary of the bedroom showed that she coveted her jewelry and he, his
sport’s attire.A small chest on the
dresser was filled with pearls, gold necklaces, gem lined bracelets and rings
of all shapes and sizes.If this was
what fulfilled her material desire, this would be what embodied a reminder of
their courtship, but he had to choose carefully for just the right piece.

After leaving his prey lifeless in
the bedroom, he sauntered back into the living room checking for any additional
signs of life.The hum of the
refrigerator kicking on defrost mode broke the silence.He continued his stealthy hunt in the kitchen
to complete the insertion into the victim’s lives.He wanted to know everything about them.The refrigerator is the bulletin board and art
gallery of the family.The killer would
study the lives of his prey in pictures, snapped at happy times, exciting
times, at parties, on vacation and displayed the growth of the family, one
snapshot at a time.Scribbly finger art
and erratic crayon drawings filled the rest of the door space between the
magnet tacked pictures.Two small
children were the focus in most of the pictures and were the obvious creators
of such innocent artwork.The killer
would realize that there was still prey yet to be found.

The hallway leading to the children's
rooms were dark and silent.This only
proved the effectiveness of his stealth and cunning.Confidence grew with each passing moment.The shadowy killer stood outside of a closed
bedroom door waiting, listening and breathing.He slowly turned the doorknob, fulfilling any nightmare of the boogeyman
coming to get them and pushed the door open.His heart raced as the thrill of the hunt was renewed.But he was met with disappointment as the
nightlight in the corner softly illuminated a perfectly made but empty
bed.He looked deeper in the room for
the chance of a spontaneous camping trip on the floor but the room was
empty.A check of the second bedroom
revealed the same, the kids were out.How fortunate for them or was it?

The shadowy killer would double-check
his work in the master bedroom and ignore the terror filled look on her face
but instead choosing to see the peaceful beauty of their courtship.This was his goodbye.He would take his trophy and bid farewell,
taking in her beauty cherishing one last moment.Their courtship was now complete.

With the stealth and silence he
crept into the scene and into the lives of the victims he stalked, he would slowly
creep out and into the silence of the night.

So, as he stood across the street
from the crime scene before the forensic investigators snapped their pictures,
collected their swabs, dusted for fingerprints, took measurements and searched
for evidence of the crime, he watched.Before
the reporters showed up creating a three-ring media circus and before the brass
showed up barking empty orders to sound important, he studied.Before the heart wrenching scene of the
victims’ loved ones showing up with false hope and disbelief on their face but
leaving bitterly with tragic loss gripping their souls, he waited.

As he stood across the street he
visualized what was about to happen.He
checked his bag of tools and removed the most important tool he had, a shiny
steel blade that was sharpened patiently and awaiting this very moment.He gripped the hilt firmly in his hand as
this was his scythe and he was death.He moved stealthily toward the house with skillful purpose.He was the hunter, he was the shadowy killer.

About Me

I am an author who has recently self-published my first fictional book. My second will is scheduled to be out in February 2015. I am using the blog to help promote the book as well as other writings and future book projects and ideas.